you open always petal by petal
by gina grey
Summary: A collection of ExT drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: The title of this collection of drabbles is taken from the beautiful E. E. Cummings poem, _somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond_, which reminds me of ExT. Enjoy!

1.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning when he first realizes it. He feels physically winded and overwhelmed, even though it is nothing more than a revelation that comes to him as he sits alone at home, watching the rain fall outside his window and thinking about the afternoon he'd just spent.

Clow had been wrong. Not just about Sakura and Yue, and about Li. No, he'd also been wrong about Kaho. Kaho was smart, beautiful and kind, and had ancient magic flowing in her veins – she was the perfect companion for Clow's reincarnation. Or so he'd thought. The truth is, he and Kaho were never meant to be together, no matter what Clow thought he prophesied. He'd mistaken his attraction to the power of the moon in her for attraction to her. That power had smoothed over any doubts he'd felt, had created the illusion of deeper feelings than were there. He'd thought it was love.

But hearts are rarely that simple. This was a lesson he'd learnt while watching over his descendant and the Card Mistress.

There was another, who was also smart, beautiful and kind. But not a trace of magic ran in her, and she'd been in love with another for a long time, since he first knew her. And so he'd missed it, could be forgiven for missing it.

He thinks of the afternoon he's just spent in the café with her, trying to milk every bit of their time together before Sakura and Li arrive (late as always). He thinks of the deep sense of contentment he felt walking her home, of keeping her safe. He thinks of the inexplicable joy that bubbles up in him whenever she smiles _that smile_ at him, that warm, gentle, sweet smile; the sensation of his stomach falling out from beneath him when he sees her holding back tears; the iron fist that grips his heart when he thinks she might get hurt; the twinge in his gut when she receives gifts or compliments from other guys with an embarrassed, beautiful smile.

Clow, wise as he is, had been in the dark for the longest time.

But he knows now, is certain of it as he is certain of nothing else.

_He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. _


	2. Chapter 2

This is not the first time he's escorted her to an event. They are good friends, after all, both single and running in circles in which black-tie events are par for the course. But this evening feels different somehow. The tension between them is so thick it's almost stifling.

Perhaps it is because of the dress she wore tonight, a deep green number that dips daringly down her back to her derriere, showing off creamy white skin and hugging her in all the right places. Perhaps it is that she catches him staring, his eyes dark, and tonight he doesn't try to hide it or look away as he so often does, but looks her in the eye and smiles that slow, beautiful, enigmatic, wicked smile of his. Perhaps it's that they've both had a little too much to drink. Perhaps it's these things, coupled with the fleeting moments of contact opportuned by their role as dates for each other this evening – her hand resting lightly on his arm, his hand grazing the small of her back as he helps her out of his car, their fingers brushing as he hands her a glass of wine.

Perhaps it's just that this charade has gone on long enough, and they're tired of waiting.

Tonight, not unlike previous nights, he walks her to her door. Tonight, not unlike previous nights, she thanks him for being her date. _Eriol-san, _she says, her voice soft. _Thank you for accompanying me this evening. I had a good time._

_It is my pleasure as always, Tomoyo-san. I can't tell you how many awkward dances you saved me from. _

But tonight, unlike previous nights, they are obviously distracted. They say their goodbyes and goodnights, but their usual polite song and dance fools no one. There is just the slightest bit of hesitation before he turns to go to his car, as if he is contemplating something. And then tonight, unlike previous nights, she puts a hand on his arm, reaches up on tiptoes and softly presses her lips against his cheek.

What she'd intended was a peck on the cheek – sometime tame, something she can laugh off as an innocent gesture should he ask – but the simple contact seems to burn. It ignites a flame that spreads in them like wildfire despite the chilly winter air.

Almost before she knows what is happening, she hears him mutter, _Forgive me, Tomoyo._ And then his arms are around her waist, crushing her to him, and his lips are on hers, warm and soft and hungry, and more than everything she had ever imagined.

When they finally break apart, they are both panting. He leans his forehead against hers, and she sees that his eyes are dark, his pupils dilated. There are goose bumps running all along her arms that she's certain have nothing to do with the cold. The next time, it is she who leans in first.

Between kisses, she manages to murmur, _Do you want to come in?_

_God, yes. _

The door shuts behind them with a resounding click, and that is the last the rest of the world sees of them for the next forty-eight hours.


	3. Chapter 3

_Was that really necessary, Hiiragizawa-san?_

_Necessary for what? _Deliberately playing dumb.

_Don't be coy, Hiiragizawa-san. It doesn't suit you. _

_No, I want to know why you think I was doing it. _

_To get Li-kun to confess, of course. Wasn't that your intention? _

_Part of it, perhaps. _

_What was the rest? _

A shrug. _Now, Daidouji-san, what was wrong with what I did? _

_It was a little overboard, don't you think?_

_It had to be overt. You know how dense the both of them can be. _

_You made Sakura-san uncomfortable as well. She's not used to such blatant flirting, you know._

_Daidouji-san, are you—_

_I must say though, I quite enjoyed that bit at the end. _

_You mean my kissing Sakura-san on the forehead? _

_Yes; it was a nice touch. I thought Li-kun would keel over from jealousy._

_… _

_What is it? _

_I must confess I'm somewhat disappointed that _you_ aren't jealous. _

_Jealous? Why would I be? _

_You don't need me to spell it out, surely._

_For your information, I got over Sakura-san a long time ago. _

A sigh. _It seems you do need me to spell it out. _

A pause.

_Well?_

_To put it quite bluntly, I'm in love with you. _

_Oh. _

_Yes. _

_Actually, of that I am perfectly aware._

Gaping. _How did you—_

_I have my ways. Does it surprise you to know that I know?_

_Not—quite. As I said, I didn't think I needed to spell it out. You just wanted me to say it, didn't you? _

A shrug. _ I prefer things out in the open. _

_Well, now that it is, don't you have anything to say? _

Casting a glance towards where they had come from – _I think you succeeded in getting Li-kun to take action. _

_If that is all you have to say… Good day, Daidouji-san. _Doffing a non-existent hat, a bright smile plastered on.

_Wait – where are you going?_

_I think I'm going to go run my head into a wall now. Either that or ask Ruby Moon to cook dinner. Can't tell which would be more painful. _

_And _I_ get accused of having a flair for the dramatic. _Slim fingers grasp the edge of a shirt cuff when he seems insistent on leaving. _Hiiragizawa-san, don't be ridiculous. _

_I don't mean to be rude, Daidouji-san, but I really would like to be alone right now. _

_I thought you were more observant than that. Do I have to spell it out? _

_Do you mean—_

_Yes._

_So you were jealous. _

_Not at all. I know you didn't mean anything by it. Besides, you and Sakura-san? Pfft. _

_You… manipulated this whole thing, didn't you? _

_I prefer to term it 'nudging'. _

_This is why I love you, Daidouji-san._

_That's Tomoyo to you. Now, are you going to kiss me or not? _


	4. Chapter 4

Kinomoto Sakura hums to herself as she walks down the street, golden leaves crunching leaves beneath her boots. 

She tries not to let her attention wander as she passes a flower stand with the most wonderfully bright sunflowers, a shopkeeper giving out free samples of hot mushroom tea, a bakery, just carting out their first buns of the morning… 

As the smell of freshly baked bread hits her nostrils, she pauses and turns. Well, okay. Maybe the bakery is a worthy diversion. The last time she ate was on the plane a few hours ago. She hasn't had anything to eat since, not even when she dropped her suitcase off with the hotel concierge, and it is breakfast time, after all. 

She selects an adzuki bun to eat on her way, and thoughtfully eyes the glass display as the cashier rings up her order. "Wait—can I have one of these as well?" she asks, pointing, and giving the girl a winning smile. 

Pleased with her purchases, she continues along her way, munching happily on her bun. Kyoto has the best adzuki buns! Perhaps they can go out for brunch later as well! 

Finally reaching the street that she is looking for, she recognizes the building, a block of elegant, cream-coloured, low-rise apartments. 

She taps herself into the block using the extra key she was given two years ago. As the lift slowly climbs to the fifth floor, she opens her bag and pulls out a package wrapped in metallic paper. Tomoyo has always loved shiny things. 

Standing in front of the door, she wonders for a moment how she should go about doing this. Deciding to just go ahead and ring the doorbell, she quashes any misgivings she has about calling so early in the morning. Tomoyo has always been an early riser. Plus, the cream on the cake might melt. And she can't wait to see the look on her face! 

As the door swings open, her smile widens in anticipation and she holds the gift and cake box out. "SURPRISE! Happy birth-" 

She doesn't finish her sentence, as her jaw seems to have anchored itself to the floor. 

For, standing in the doorway, naked from the waist up and looking supremely bedraggled, is someone who is decidedly _not_ her kawaii, camera-wielding best friend. Someone with dark hair (now rumpled beyond belief) and blue eyes and a key that also turns into a staff. 

Eyes that are widening in shock. "S—Sakura-san?" 

Her gaze skitters across his bare chest (_Oh dear, she did _not_ need to see those scratches or those… were they _love bites_?_), only to alight on the trail of clothing that, like Gretel's breadcrumbs, leads from the hallway towards the bedrooms. A jacket, a scarf, a tie, what looks it could be like a skirt… 

She blinks. 

"HOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"


End file.
